


Icy Water

by EdwardNotSoLittle



Category: The Terror (TV 2018)
Genre: Crozier is dad, Gen, Heroic deeds, Hurt/Comfort, Jopson is son, Mr Blanky is just a sour pirate and i love him so much, Ross Expedition 1839, Sharing Body Heat, YOU'RE MY DAD BOOGIE WOOGIE WOOGIE, Young Jopson, cold cold cold bois, crazy uncle blanky, terror bingo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:40:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22575721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EdwardNotSoLittle/pseuds/EdwardNotSoLittle
Summary: How Thomas Jopson got the scar on his leg.Two Chapter bingo fill.Bingo prompt:Blanket
Comments: 4
Kudos: 14
Collections: The Terror Bingo (2019)





	Icy Water

It was late in the evening when he awoke, and he found himself unable to fall back to sleep.

Heaving a sigh he pulled his tired body out of his berth and started to pull on his trousers, tucking in his nightshirt before pulling on his outer layers and boots so he could go up on deck for a smoke.

As he slid open the bed bed cabin door he poured a small half glass of whiskey, downing it in a couple gulps before emerging from the grand room.

Crozier made his way down the passageway only to stop when he came upon the bed cabin door of his steward.

The door was open.

Bleedin Christ! The lad wasn't up at this hour?

Curious he approached the open door, knocking the frame quietly.

No answer.

Quietly he peered inside only to be even more confused when he found Jopson not there.

_'Blast! Bleedin' Christ that boy is not to be up and about!'_

Alarmed he turned on his heel, immediately beginning to walk briskly through Terror's lower decks in search of the young steward.

The lad was ordered by Terror's surgeon himself not to walk for at least two weeks while he recovered from such a serious injury.

Not finding the young man anywhere on the lower deck, Francis felt a pang of dread settle into his gut.

Surely, he didn't go up on deck?

Pulling his coat tighter around his frame, Captain Crozier made his route to the ladder way ascending the thing quickly before throwing open the hatch.

Immediately he spotted the lad, standing by the gunwale as he looked out over the sea.

_'The lad better have a good excuse for this.'_

Frustrated by the lad's lack of following specific medical orders, he made his way onto the ice covered deck, frowning as the lad didn't seem to have heard him.

"Mister Jopson!" he called sternly.

"Oh!" the boy cried startled.

It all happened so fast, one minute his steward was there by the edge of the ship, the next he wasn't and all he heard was an audible shout followed by a splash.

He stood there in shock for a moment, jaw agape as what just happened registered in his head.

Moments later he was yanking his arms from his great coat sleeves, cursing as he tossed his hat on top of it.

"Sodding shit! God damn your eyes Jopson!" he growled to himself, running to the edge of the ship and leaping off without looking where exactly he was going.

Just before he jumped he heard the call of Terror's ice master Mr Blanky. "Fuckin' Christ Francis! What in the name of Christ's bleedin' balls!?"

He barely had time to brace himself for the icy temperature of the water before he hit it.

One could never prepare themselves enough.

The frigid cold made him shudder with a deep intake of breath, sucking water into his mouth as he broke through the surface.

As soon as he rose to the surface just moments later and he was turning his head, eyes scanning the dark depths of the sea, searching desperately for the lad while trying to force his body through the shock of the cold water.

It took a moment but the moonlight as it shone on the water covered with a few small ice flows here and there, he was able to spot the lad. His coughs and sputters also helped him locate him as well, he was desperately trying to stay afloat with his wounded leg and the hypothermic cold of the water.

He paddled his way over to Thomas, looping an arm around his waist and tugging him close.

“C-C….a…. apt…..ain…….?” he barely heard Thomas utter between violently chattering teeth.

"A-Aye…I got you lad." he forced out through a mild chatter of his own.

A line was thrown to them and he could hear shouting of men as Mr Blanky had clearly raised the alarm for him.

Sluggishly he grabbed at the thing, wrapping it tightly in his hand before shifting Jopson closer to his chest.

"H-Hang onto me son…"

Trembling fingers curled into his shoulders as best they could being near frozen through and it seemed like forever until the offered line became taught and they were being dragged from the water.

He almost dropped the young man a couple times and was forced to wrap his legs around Jopson's holding the poor lad tight to him, by the time Mr Blanky was able to grab him to pull him on deck he'd been praying the limbs weren't to snap off.

"Jesus Buggering Christ lads!" Thomas's gruff Yorkshire accent was spitting at him as a pile of blankets were dropped on them both.

"Get them down below immediately!" Lieutenant Archibald McMurdo bellowed his command.

* * *

“What the hell happened?! How did he get up on deck?!” Doctor Robertson was shouting angrily about the captain's steward, as lieutenants McMurdo and Kay helped support his own shivering body into sick bay with haste while Mr Blanky had poor Jopson, near unconscious despite his tremor shaken body, in a bridal carry behind them.

“Notta bloody fuckin’ clue. One moment I was comin’ on deck for a damn smoke and the next I see this absolute fucking twat jumpin’ overboard like a damn show horse over the gunwale to get the sorry lad!” Mr Blanky shot back as if the man was accusing him of taking the lad for a joyful stroll.

“John, please, not now let’s get them warmed up.” the assistant surgeon David Lyall tried to quell the surgeon's frustration.

With a growl the man relented, instructing them to place the two men on different bunks in Terror’s sick bay.

“How long were they in the water?” he asked quickly.

Mr Blanky paused having to ponder until finally he answered, “HellifIno… if I had to guess… probably about six and a half bloody minutes.”

Doctor Robertson looked absolutely horrified and livid if that was even possible.

“God dammit! Strip them, strip them both! The captain can lash me for his privacy later.” the surgeon spat infuriated.

“I-I-I…. I-....I… just wanted…. A-a-ai…a-air….” poor Jopson surprisingly forced out in his hypothermic delirium.

"Air!?!" the surgeon roared, "you can find air all over the--"

"Belay that Doctor Robertson! T-That is enough… l-leave the lad be… I-I shall d-deal with him personally much later… f-for now we are your patients." Francis barely managed to use his full fledged captain's voice… yet only for the first sentence before his own tone was impaired by chattering teeth.

The surgeon, clearly seething with frustration as a medical practitioner, relented though he was clearly reluctant to do so. "Of course, sir."

After a tense pause Doctor Robertson spoke again after clearing his throat, "Captain, sir. I recommend body heat to try to warm the two of you up. Now… perhaps one of these fine gentlemen," he paused to glance about the room from Mr Blanky to the lieutenant's before continuing, ",would be kind enough to--"

"Nay, I-I can bunk with the lad." Francis interjected just as he saw Thomas about to open his mouth to offer, not at all bothered with the idea of bunking with his old friend.

"S-Sir… th-that's… not… n-not necessary…" Jopson's pitifully trembling voice tried to protest.

"Actually, it is, mister Jopson... We need to have a discussion, y-you and I."

* * *

Doctor Robertson had helped him strip down to his underdrawers while Doctor Lynall helped Jopson.

Francis could tell the poor lad felt unbearably awkward as Terror's assistant surgeon supported him over to the small bunk within his private bed cabin, a very, very faint blush showed some color in his young face when he pulled back the blankets to help him into the small berthing area, revealing his captain's mostly naked and still trembling body.

He on the other hand wasn't bothered, he'd had to do such a routine once before as a younger lad himself.

"At… At ease Jopson, I promise I-I shan't bite you lad." he was regaining his normal speech pattern a lot quicker than young Jopson, his own body used to the harsh elements clearly assisting him.

"S-So… rry, s-sir…" the poor boy stuttered limping as Doctor Lynall supported his weight.

"Easy son, alright let's lay you down." the older man instructed helping Jopson get his wounded self over the rail of the bunk.

The Commander shifted to make room as Lynall helped his steward onto his side so he was facing him and pulled the blankets over the two of them.

"Should either of you need something, anything, sir, just send for Doctor Robertson or myself." the assistant surgeon stated.

"Thank you, Doctor. I think... we'll be fine."

With that the other man left, leaving the two of them alone.

A heavy silence filled the room, well besides young Jopson's chattering teeth and Francis heaved a sigh before gathering the poor lad into his arms, pulling him close to his bare chest.

His steward immediately tensed at the action, initially trying to pull away, not understanding what he was trying to do. “S-S...Sir…” he chittered out uncomfortably.

"At ease Jopson, at ease.” he reassured the lad, rubbing his back soothingly.

It wasn’t but a moment later the dark haired young man stilled, and soon his body went lax against him as his brain instinctively told it to seek the heat radiating off him once he registered it upon his cold skin.

Slowly pale hazel eyes shifted their gaze up to look at him, a light flush putting some color back in his face.

Despite the circumstances, Francis couldn’t help but chuckle patting Jopson’s back reassuringly. It was almost comical just how utterly miserable the lad looked, wanting to be anywhere but here suffering in his humility caused by his own recklessness.

“I-I didn’t mean for… y-you to get in h-harms w...way. T-Thank yo.. you, s-sir… for… f-for...” the boy finally managed quietly before having to stop, his voice failing him in his struggle to keep his teeth from chattering so violently.

“Well, I have to say, I’d be a poor captain indeed if I just let ye drown. Ye can swim, I know, one of the few men on the damn ship who can, but that leg wasn’t going to be doing ye any good.” he replied, his Irish brogue coming off thick on his tongue.

Thomas just nodded, a small smile trying to find its way onto his lips but with his teeth still chattering so, it appeared more a grimace.

“Y-Your teeth… how ha...have they stopped… a-already?” the boy asked with a pout, frustrated he was still struggling so badly to speak through his cold shaken body.

Crozier rasped out a laugh, offering the lad a small shrug. “Must be more used to it than I thought, I have been to the frigid lands several times lad.”

* * *

As Mr Blanky entered the great cabin, he didn’t see Francis.

Had everything gone alright?

Grumbling curses about all the things he was going to do to his old friend in the afterlife if he had frozen to death, he was just about to knock on the captain’s sleeping quarters when the door slid open from the other side.

The man in question emerged, hair dried rather unkempt out of it’s wet state.

He was dressed in a more casual wear, trousers and undershirt but he looked a lot better.

Definitely looked warmer.

Francis had his head looking over his shoulder back into his bed cabin and hadn’t yet seen him, so he promptly walked right into him, or almost, he stopped him with two hands on his shoulders to keep him at arm's length.

The blonde man’s head snapped forward and he jumped slightly with a quietly uttered curse.

At such a reaction he couldn’t help but grin wickedly.

“God damn your eyes Thomas! You sultry lout! Don’t scare me like that.” he hissed quietly pushing past him to enter the grand room.

Mr Blanky peered into the man’s bed cabin when he heard a small groan and movement from inside, seeing Jopson rolling over onto his other side, blindly reaching for the blankets as they slipped off his upper arms.

Chuckling softly, he stepped into the room quietly to pull the thick wool covers back up over the lad’s pale shoulders, and Jopson instantly settled back down in his exhausted slumber.

Lad sure had a night that was for sure.

Satisfied he exited the room, closing the door quietly behind him and sitting himself at the large table in the room and watching as Francis poured two very generous glasses of whiskey.

Lord knew they fucking needed it.


End file.
